


Devil May Drabble

by Ashenious



Series: You-In-Verse (DMC) [13]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Compilation, Drabble, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashenious/pseuds/Ashenious
Summary: Sets of drabbles that I wanted to write. Basically stories I wanted to post that don't have a full, chapter-based story behind them.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Series: You-In-Verse (DMC) [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456870
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Dadgil Week

Dante and Vergil are at the DMC office after a long mission/long day/long whatever, and of course Dante’s drinking cause when isn’t he? But for once Vergil decides to join him cause the day was awful and he isn’t completely opposed to alcohol all the time despite how absolutely awful it tastes (esp whatever Dante drinks on the regular)

Drinks go down, time passes on between the 2 brothers, and Dante’s probably pretty gone when Vergil finally hits what he decides is ‘unacceptably intoxicated’ because he’s just talking and rambling on. It’s a contrast to how he usually is, but Dante isn’t complaining, he’s loving the feeling of warmth in him and he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of hearing Vergil talk about things that aren’t becoming more powerful or demons.

But it’s when the topic suddenly switches from how awful the cheap whiskey is to Nero that Dante pays full and complete attention cause Vergil just starts to ramble on about his son. He says how surprised he was to be face to face to Nero, how surprised he was to learn the truth.

He talks about his time visiting Nero at his home, about Kyrie and how welcoming and wonderful she is, how incredible the pair were with their 3 kids, how their lives were such a contrast to what he and Dante knew.

He talks about all the things Nero has done, how kind he is, how forgiving he is, how strong he is, and by then Dante’s stopped drinking because he’s just listening Vergil go on and on.

He talks about all the things that Nero’s done since they’ve met, all the people he’s helped, all the demons he’s sent back to hell, all the wonderful things he’s done on his own free will. Dante wants to ask Vergil how he’s feeling in the moment as he’s worried that his brother may have had too much to drink, but when Vergil tells Dante about the strange sense motivation that sits inside him at the thoughts of what Nero does, Dante doesn’t stop the man. The word ‘proud’ isn’t ever said by Vergil himself, but Dante can feel the word linger around Vergil’s sentences.

It’s the small smile that Dante notices on Vergil that tells Dante what he needs to know, and the legendary devil hunter is sated in the moment, the small warmth inside him not coming from just the whiskey in him but from the happiness he’s truly feeling as well as he listens to his brother for as long as he can. And Dante only hopes that Vergil keeps on going forever in the moment. 


	2. The Light Behind Your Eyes

The scene was unfolding exactly just like it had before: the man at the centerfold hunched over his work space with his forehead pressed to his desk’s surface, his face unseen and covered by his hair as his calloused fingers gripped tightly around the most recent drink he had opened with the bottle opener he had used laying just near his clenched hand. It was a scene you were most familiar with, a scene that caused your heart a deep sense of sadness that you wished you could never feel. But feel it you had before and feel it again you were, and you knew what you were supposed to do, what you wanted to do, seeing what was before you.

The act began in the exact way as it had all the previous times, and your body moved on its own as you neared center stage. You hadn’t needed to practice your actions or dialogue at all, each coming naturally to you from the concern that was held inside you. You always tried to remain as quiet as possible as you stepped up onto the stage, not wanting to alarm the man as you neared despite knowing that his super human hearing was more than capable of hearing you and your small steps from miles away.

Walking to stage right, you let your hand lightly slide against the hard wooden desk top that the man had rested his head on for who knows how long, your fingers gently feeling the familiar grain as they had numerous times before. You stopped in your place next to the hunched over demon hunter slowly, your eyes finally able to catch sight of the bountiful amount of bottles that littered the floor just behind the coated man and his seat.

You were always unable to stop the light sigh that left you when you found the man’s regrets on the floor, an action that held much of what you felt in it as it escaped you with ease. You never knew if the man even cared to hear your breath escape you in the moment for he never moved at your action. It was only when your hand slid close to him, your fingers lightly dusting his as you moved to take the bottle from him that he finally moved.

Unclenched fingers moved away from the empty bottle as you lifted it away, the man’s head not moving as you tossed the glass down to the pile of regrets nearby. Hand now empty, you let your free hand return to where it had, your fingers once against brushing against the man’s for only a moment before you let them trail upwards. You wanted to let the man know you were there, to let him know that he wasn’t alone in the store anymore, but you knew that words were meaningless for the time being.

The man never wore his heart on his sleeve, his emotions locked tight and deep inside him, and he choose to never reveal them to anyone. It was unfortunate that the key to opening the lock seemed to be bottles upon bottles of hard liquor, where once the feeling of drunkenness had left, his heart and long hidden emotions would only return right back to their lockbox. The true key to unlock the usually collected man was a mystery, unknown by all, even to the man himself it seemed.

Feathering a touch to the crown of the man’s head, you waited for him to move a bit, his face finally becoming only slightly visible behind his ghostly locks that matched his pale complexion before you let your hand finally settle on top of the man’s head. On cue, the man lifted himself up, still allowing his hair to remain in his face and your hand still to remain atop him as he looked you over. He wobbled in place as he sat up right, your hand the only thing that was keeping him grounded and upright for the moment as his eyes darted around.

The man gave no acknowledgement that he even knew who you were, his eyes glazed over and wet as you knew they’d be, but you didn’t hesitate to press on the man’s head gently. You pulled him closer, his upper body quickly falling to you as you guided him to you.

The devil hunter had a good foot of height to you when he was stood up, so as you guided him, his head laid harshly and quickly to the center or your torso. You only made a slight noise at the collision, and you were more focused on bringing your other hand up to the man to push your fingers into his hair to care about the slight pain you felt. The press of your hands to his head gave the man his cue, his shaking hands reaching up. He fumbled to wrap them around you, but you let him be as you carded your fingers lightly through the silver hairs that framed the face you had come to adore so much.

The man finally was able to grasp onto your shirt, his hands pulling down on the fabric harshly as he tried to pull himself closer to you. You didn’t try to stop him, your fingers continuing their motions on the man.

The scene had shifted now to a new act, the act before finally ending and bringing a small sense of contentment to you. You let yourself be a pillar for the devil hunter, your much smaller body keeping him up as he rested against you whilst you gave him comfort in your small motions. You never acknowledged the small patch of warmth that you felt gather on your shirt from where the man’s head laid; you knew to just let the moment go on.

It was only when the man began to stir, his hands finally getting a firm grasp on you and no longer pulling with a strong force that you’d speak. You spoke the man’s name gently, and at the feeling of the man shaking his head into you, you’d begin to gently told him about your day. This was the point of improvisation for you, and each time during this act there was a new bit of dialogue for you to share. Today you shared the story of your most recent job, something you knew the man would ask about sooner or later. He never remembered the story you’d tell him during this act, however, but just hearing words would seem to sate the man for the moment, and so you were more than happy to share despite knowing you’d share it again later.

It was late in the night when you had arrived, and the tick of time passed by slowly as you talked on to the man quietly still. You would not let your own tired feeling push itself up to be the predominate feeling in you, and you continued your fingers ministrations to the man’s hair as you spoke.

“I…I would…” You only hushed the man when he spoke, his voice muffled into your body as he tried to form words. It wasn’t the time to share words, for that was a scene you had written out of the play the first time it had happened as it only brought back the regrets that had been discard to the floor. You offered gentle words instead, soft nothings that filled the air gently as you waited for time to pass on.

The man slowly began to lift himself when the time was right, his body no longer wobbling as he sat himself into the back of the chair. You did not let your hands be removed from him, however, your fingers gently curling around the man’s face as he settled. He finally looked at you, his eyes now focused and able to sit still on your face as you both remained silent. Just beyond the tears that threatened to fall still were the man’s deep blue eyes, ones that were looking directly at you and that showed the vulnerability that the usually strong man would never show to you at any other point in time.

You offered up a small smile to the man, an offering to him that showed him how you felt in the moment. He never remembered these moments in the days that followed the scenes, never remembered the face he showed to you that he may never have shown to anyone else, but it didn’t bother you. It was worry that had driven you to come see the man, but it was the care and love that you felt for him that kept you there to take care of him, even if that care and love was to never be returned.

The newest scene began to unravel as the man became aware of the space around him, his eyes leaving your face finally as he gathered himself. He only appeared to be collected in the moment, however, and you knew that he wouldn’t be able to quite stand up alone just yet. Sliding your hands up a bit, your gently guided the man back to your torso again, his body very obviously tensing at the motion. You didn’t let the man react or say anything to your action though, as you left your voice begin to sing softly to him before he could do so.

**♫** Don’t come to question  
All that you’ve known  
Remember: you are not along  
I will be here, standing beside you **♫**

There was still much time to pass before you’d carry the man up to his room, where he’d collapse onto his bed and try to speak to you for a while before succumbing to sleep. You were never sure if the man knew what came next as you sand to him as his hands only gently returned themselves back to the back of your shirt where they had once sat. But the man never spoke after you began, nor did his tears begin again as he sat against you.

You wanted to change the scene, wanted to write in a new one where you spoke different words to the man, write in a new one where you prevented the whole play from happening again. The scenes would not be rewritten however, each one playing out just as they had each time before and you knew that the scenes would only replay once again in the future. But you knew your lines, knew what you wanted to do, and as you let your fingers begin slide through the man’s hair again, you knew that this was what you needed to do.


End file.
